the kind of eyes that drive wolves mad
by OKBooey31
Summary: 'what a big heart I have, the better to love you with. little red riding hood, even bad wolves can be good.' collection of canon-based klayley extended/deleted scenes
1. the way you'd play with me like a child

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Originals.**

* * *

_Hot summer days, rock 'n roll  
__The way you'd play for me at your show  
__And all the ways I got to know  
__Your pretty face and electric soul_

~Young and Beautiful~

**1x04: Girl in New Orleans**

"I've got you, love."

Loudly, spoken at normal volume as if to tell the whole world that no harm's to come to her, that she's safe in his arms.

But then he speaks again. Quietly as if he needed to reassure himself that she was okay, that she and, most importantly, the baby- _his daughter_ - are okay and that they, or at least _she_ would be as long as he was here.

"I've got you," he muttered, holding her tightly and, against all better judgement, against the survival skills she'd spent years honing, she believed him.

He'd promised her protection long before they'd been thrust into this mess and now that there's more at stake than just her life, he better damn well keep his promise.

* * *

She tries to stay awake but her eyes keep rolling and her head keeps drooping and she hates it. She knows they're going to talk at some point and Hayley's tired of being left in the dark, she wants in on the plotting and conspiring because, seriously, what more does she have to do to prove her worth?

But, right now, she doesn't even think she could open her mouth to contribute to anymore conversation let alone think of anything intelligible to say because, god, is she tired and so, so, so dizzy. Her eyes squeeze shut and it's all she can do to keep her head from falling back onto Klaus' shoulder and curl herself further into his warmth.

And it's as if he knows.

Not missing a beat, the hybrid readjusts her ever so slightly as if he's afraid to jostle her too much and now she doesn't have a choice but to tuck her head over his heart.

"Sleep, love," he murmurs and Hayley's sure it's so quiet not even Rebekah could hear it and sadly, it's all the prompting she needs to let her eyes flutter closed as the slow pounding of his heart lulls her to sleep.

The next thing that registers is a mattress enveloping her instead of his arms. Her eyes open, still thick with sleep and the question's that formed on her lips is silenced before she can speak.

"Shh, go back to sleep," is all the hybrid says, his usual condescending lilt soft and soothing, comforting as he pries her fingers from his shirt.

She's coherent enough not to make it easy for him.

* * *

She wakes up the next morning and even though she wants to stay in bed for days on end, she doesn't have that luxury thanks to basic human needs- like her growling stomach. She rolls before sitting up so she can avoid the mirror cause god she's sure she looks like a fucking mess.

But on second thought maybe the mirror would have been the better option since the first thing she sets her eyes on is the hybrid and, running a hand down her face, groans. She's not ready for the inquisition she knows is coming- the who, what, when, where, why she's come learn Klaus demands and, seriously, what the hell about 'I don't remember' doesn't he understand?

Looking up at him again, she realizes he's asleep, genuinely asleep with his hands intertwined across his stomach, his chest rising and falling evenly. A sigh of relief escapes as she watches him, looking so young and carefree in this relaxed, 'no paranoia' state.

Hayley doesn't know why she finds it endearing but she smiles softly because he stayed. He pushed aside his anger, carried her home, put her to bed, and stayed to watch over her and although it was probably more for their daughter than anything, it's still nice to see that he does care in some manner. Especially if... well just in case…

_No_.

She's not going to think like that. Klaus had said it was time to fight and fight she shall.

Anyways, if she were feeling more like her usual, snarky self, she'd wake him up, tell him that she's a big girl who doesn't need a babysitter, and kick him out but all she can think about is how uncomfortable he looks sitting in that chair.

She doesn't owe him anything- she's carrying his heir for him and that's more than enough, thank you very much- but she does find it...sweet (if such a word can be used in a sentence describing the hybrid) in a way that he fell asleep watching over her and their baby and she thinks, just for a moment, if things were different, if circumstances were different, that she could get used to this- living with the Mikaelsons and all their drama, running into his highness in the kitchen every morning, bonding with Rebekah entitled 'head bitch' attitude and all. She likes their family as twisted and intimidating as they are because she's never had one in the first place. They're a little different and, for the first time in a long time, Hayley feels like she just might belong somewhere.

Her stomach growls once more and she rubs it as if to appease the demanding baby inside (well the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?) before standing. With a thoughtful look at the snoozing hybrid, Hayley pulls one of the extra blankets she's recently piled on the bed thanks to the now-working air conditioning and takes it to drape it over him since she's not about to drag his ass down the hall and deposit him in his own bed because god only knows what Klaus' got stored in there.

She may be an orphaned street rat but she's seen Beauty and the Beast and she highly doubts there's an enchanted rose hidden in the West Wing of Klaus' house of horrors.

And, let's be real here, she probably wouldn't do that even if she was gifted with the supernatural strength of a vampire.

With another soft smile at his sleeping figure, she adjusts the blanket so it covers him more fully before leaving the room as quietly as possible and wanders down to the kitchen where she runs into the head bitch herself, most unfortunately.

Rebekah looks her up and down and Hayley inwardly groans- her next stop will be the shower, for sure.

"Where's Nik?" she demands, hands on her hips as she fixes the wolf with a haughty stare.

Hayley shrugs and pays the other girl no mind and moves around her into the kitchen. "Asleep."

Rebekah huffs and storms out, towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"To wake sleeping beauty. We have things to do. A brother to help, you to protect, a witch to question."

"So?" the wolf deadpans, perusing the contents of the refrigerator.

"So we don't have time to take a day off. This is his bloody revolution and he can get his ungrateful, selfish hybrid ass out of bed and revolt because I'm not managing it for him."

"Says the girl delivering Elijah's orders," Hayley quips without looking at the blonde.

"Excuse me?"

Hayley ignores her which only proves to infuriate the Original further.

"Listen, wolf girl, my brother may have asked me to protect you but don't mistake that as me liking you. By any means."

Hayley slams the refrigerator door shut and fixing Rebekah with a glare. She doesn't know why she's so suddenly angry, least of all angry on Klaus' behalf but she is. "Listen up. He's been at this all summer and I'm still alive. So give him a freaking minute to himself."

Rebekah arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow and her pouty, pink lips part as if she's about to put Hayley in her place but the words die when Hayley returns the look, raised brow and all.

"Fine," Rebekah bites out before stalking out of the kitchen mumbling about Elijah owing her big time for the shit she has to put up with between Hayley and Klaus.

And to that the Hayley says whatever.

If Klaus is actually going to do this, keep her and the baby safe, the least she can do, she figures, is look out for him where she can. They're backed in a corner but they don't have to be alone.

Sighing as her stomach growls yet again, Hayley looks away from where Rebekah's exited the room, the echo of her heels having faded into the stillness of the peaceful (for now, at least) house. She pulls the refrigerator door back open and rubs her abdomen and looks down at where he hands rests. "Between me and you dad, it'll be a wonder if you make any friends, kid," she says, a fond smile pulling at her lips.

**A/N: *adds an otp to the list***

**if you're an old reader of mine- before (and if) you get all hot and bothered by my Team Klayley support let me say that I still do ship Klaroline- just my own version. I still plan to write Klaroline (aka finish ****_In Shadow _****and wrap up ****_SPE_****). But I just have really become turned off by disgusting hate I see coming from the bad eggs of the Klaroline fandom. plus I'm ****_loving _****TO in all it's glory so I just wanna enjoy all it has to offer me.**

**so ya, long story short, I'm still a Klaroliner, I just really don't like what it's become because of certain fans. ****and, besides, Daddy Klausy has to be the most precious thing I've ever seen ugh. you can ask my wifey (klarolinedrabblings over on tumblr or TalkingToTulips here)...she can confirm I legit have mental breakdowns every time we talk about it.**

**so there's that. and the fact I have a list about 10 items long of things I have planned to write and no this wasn't one of them but you can't really ignore inspiration when is slaps you in the face lol. school just basically sucks all my time and energy away :( but never fear, I will be more active soon! or so I hope...**

**k, I think that's all. oh! I got a twitter for my secret life as a fangirl! follow me if you have one, maybe? okbooey**

**Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you have a second:)**


	2. sticks to your tongue shows on your face

**A/N 1.0: ERMERGERD. DEAD. I'm dead and gone. This show has done me in with it's amazing writing, flawless acting, and just altogether badassery because DAYUM. I'm so proud to be a Groupie alksdjfla;kjfla;skdjfal;sjasdf. anywho. if, by chance you're an older reader of mine side-eying me for, seemingly, abandoning my other fics just know that I haven't. I'm very, ****_very _****slowly working my way through them (mainly the epilogue of SPE). you can blame school for just sucking any inspiration I have right out the window meh. **

**but, here we go with Klayley deleted scene nummer zwei. Enjoy:)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Originals. but man what I would give to be involved somehow.**

* * *

_There is love in our bodies and it holds us together  
But pulls us apart when we're holding each other  
We all want something to hold in the night  
We don't care if it hurts or we're holding too tight_

~Hardest of Hearts: Florence + the Machine~

**1x08: The River in Reverse**

She hates him. In fact, she doesn't think she hates anyone more than she hates him. From the stench of bourbon, leather, pencil shavings, and pine permeating the interior of the Range Rover to his stupid cheekbones, pouty lips, and expressive eyes, everything about the hybrid makes her want to puke, gauge her eyes out, rip her hair out, cut his dick off. _S__omething _because she hates walking on eggshells around him, waiting for him to snap when she freaking _breathes_ at the wrong time. Because, heaven forbid she breathe out of sync.

Yeah, Klaus Mikaelson is _that_ bad.

But what really blows is the fact she can't figure out why.

Okay, there's the obvious reasons: he's a sick bastard, a leech, a parasitical, controlling and manipulative jackass with major abandonment issues and that alone makes Hayley snort since he'd once pinpointed her 'charming bravado' on her own abandonment issues but there is nothing and she repeats _nothing_ charming about Klaus' attitude.

Then there's the fact he quite possibly- _probably- _no, without a doubt will use their bouncing bundle of joy to create another army. But, even then, jokes on him 'cause those stupid things will be sired to her. Or maybe it's really her baby but whatever. As long as said failure monsters aren't sired to him. Her little princess can have her own army to protect herself from her psychopath of a father and Hayley gets a front row seat to watch it all unfold. I mean, seriously. The look on this cocky asshole's face will be _priceless_.

Lil' Ass Kicker: 1. Bratty Original Hybrid: 0.

-insert evil laugh here-

Hayley's smirk fades into her reflection as she watches the streets framed with ancient trees and decorated with fragmented patches of sunlight go by as he whisks her away into the heart of the French Quarter like she's some kind of war prisoner.

She chances another glance at him, ready to peg him with yet another glare only to find the hybrid staring stoically ahead, one had on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. He doesn't pay her any mind and why would he when he made it abundantly clear the only thing she's good for is the kid she's carrying but she continues glaring at his softened features on the off-chance he glances at her out of the corner of his eye- eyes that are filled to the brim with tears.

They roll to a stop, the silence looming over them, around them as it consumes everything from her anger and disgust to his frustration and guilt.

A tear slips down his cheek.

She looks away when he raises a hand to swipe at his face and remove the evidence that the devil does, in fact, cry.

He doesn't deserve her sympathy.

* * *

"I took the liberty of having your belongings packed and brought over," Klaus says as he gives her the grand tour.

It's not the museum of art, knick-knacks, and other artifacts he lived in back in Mystic Falls. Nor does it possess the Old World grandeur of the plantation house. It's simple and familiar and it's been modernized since he was evicted it but it's home- it's his kingdom, his palace.

She only offers a noncommittal shrug, making her disdain and apathy known as she trails after him through the courtyard, the kitchen, and other rooms he deems essential to her needs.

It maybe his home but as far as Hayley's concerned it's her new prison.

"Let's cut the crap and get to the part you lock me away in the forbidden tower already," she snaps when he shows her which room is his and where it is in relation to hers.

The door slams in his face and reverberates through the silent halls before he can reply. Deciding arguing with her isn't worth his time, he stalks down the hall and busies himself with the first decanter of scotch he can find.

If she's going to be difficult, she doesn't deserve his hospitality.

* * *

_Not even the chill of the ground offers solace from the white hot agony tearing at his flesh as bones snap and mend as his body tries to turn itself inside out. _

_A hand plunges past bone and muscles, tears through flesh, arteries and tissue and grips the pounding organ._

_"Elijah."_

_He screams._

_Broken, beaten, abandoned._

_"You betrayed me. My own sister."_

_Escape._

_"Has history taught you nothing? We don't abandon you, you drive us away!"_

_Chains._

_"I've had enough."_

_Escape._

He stumbles out onto the balcony, gasping for breath. Warm, humid breeze embraces sweat-drenched skin, lulling his pounding head and racing thoughts into serenity as if whispering sweet nothings into the shell of his ear.

He should know better than to relish in this false comfort. He should know better than to let his eyes flutter shut and let reality slip away.

_Betrayed._

His breathing quickens.

_Trapped._

_Beaten._

The banister splinters under his grip- maybe the pain will bring him back.

_Weak._

_Bastard._

_Abandoned._

A door opens, creaking on the hinges in the silence of the courtyard. Someone groans. He wretches his eyes open and whirls to face the intruder.

"Oh," he breaths, finding the wolf girl peering at him through burning hazel eyes.

"Just when I thought you'd finally stopped your moaning and groaning you're still here bothering me."

He turns away, leans against the banister, gripping it tightly as if it were a lifeline whilst he fought for control and composure against the onslaught- the pain, the rage, the frustration, the disappointment; desperation, fear, helplessness.

And through it all, one sound breaches it all. The smallest of fluttering, quieter than a hummingbird's wings, pounds in his ears- his own personal symphony.

It had once been Elijah, the voice of reason drawing him back, holding tightly to his leash only to let it slip through the cracks time and time again.

_Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump._

There's the softest rustle of fabric and Hayley turns to leave

"Stay."

"I'm not babysitting your ass because you have nightmares. Grow up."

He whirls on her and he doesn't miss the way she flinches as though he's going to advance on her, the way a momentary fear flashes through her hardened eyes as if she's expecting his wrath. He retreats further into himself, shrinking against the railing. "Please."

It's a desperate and broken plea and he doesn't even recognize his own voice when in infiltrates the stagnant space between them. But he needs her, needs the heartbeat floating around in his head and keeping him sane, pulling him from the destruction of his own mind and, for once, the vulnerability breaking through the cracks of his thick skin, like his siblings, doesn't matter.

"Pretty sure you're gonna find more comfort in your stupid paintings or alcohol or draining someone dry. You can jump off a bridge for all I care."

Defeated yet again, his eyes drift downwards to the hand resting on the swell between her hips, the place where her child- where his child, his daughter, their baby grows- and he focuses on the sound of her innocent heart as it drowns out all the music of the New Orleans night, thundering away, unheard, into the cityscape. He turns away before the burning sensation plaguing the corners of his eyes becomes too urgent. And he fully expects her to leave him alone in his misery just as everyone else has.

"It's moments like this where I want to believe what Elijah said."

"Pray tell, what sage, heart-felt words spewed from the noble liar's lips?"

"The meaning of the word 'broken' implies something can be fixed."

"And what do you think, little wolf?" he asks once his breath isn't lodged in his throat and he's not stumbling over words, choking on them as they form on his lips.

"That it's something to hold on to. Goodnight, Klaus."

Her words are no more than a whisper that mixes with the melodious thrumming that's ringing in his ears. Looking over his shoulder to watch her disappear into the depths of their new home, he reaches out, grabbing her words and latching onto them, anchoring himself to them as he strains to hear the comforting lull of his baby's heartbeat until the softest click indicates the barrier that's been placed between them and he's left, standing on the balcony that overlooks his kingdom with nothing but echoes.

**A/N 2.0: yeah, idk really. kinda just ran away from me. i also don't really know what else to say other than I just saw 'Catching Fire' and I'm really mind blows and lakdjf;alfjda;slkdfja;sdfljs and that I've got family coming to my house later for holiday shenanigans and that I think my fish is dead wahhh. so I'm just gonna stop talking now that you've had a completely irrelevant update on my life and say thanks for putting up with me while I'm ahead.**

**and, most importantly, thanks for reading! review if you have a second- it's much appreciated:) **


	3. know you dug for years below the ground

**A/N 1.0: This is a few days removed, I sowwy. but. Is it January yet? /flails and screams and cries.**

**PS- [whispers] ****_the werewolves are coming. all the werewolves are coming. Klaus' wolfy family is coming. and Hayley's wolfy family is already sorta kinda here. I sense wolfy bonding coming. they shall be werewolf royalty together and unite their packs. 'tis happening. _**

**_SOON. _/pets fellow klayley shippers**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Originals.**

* * *

_In an instant your predator hands reached to the throat  
I knew you were waiting to die the whole time  
Your legs they swung for hours in semi-spires_

~ Fangs | Little Red Lung ~

**1x09: reigning pain in new orleans**

Some days are better than others, that's a lesson Klaus has had drilled into his head after living through more than his fair share of trying times. But then there are the days he can never quite label between all the emotional ups and downs. There are a lot more of them than he'd prefer and he'd much rather work his way through a bottle of bourbon or five, much like now. And the only thing standing between him and the nearest decanter is an incredibly disgruntled and pregnant to boot wolf-girl.

"Excuse me, your Highness," she spits, froth all but dripping from her bared teeth as she levels him with cold, narrowed eyes. "Next time I'll make sure to remove my lowly werewolf-self from your path."

He bites his tongue to keep from lashing out at her. She may be pregnant with his baby, she may be upset with him even though they both know the wolves are safe, she may have sworn revenge for his dodgy behavior but there's only so much contempt even he can take especially when, not a month ago, she was at least accepting of his presence.

But that was before the noble brother strode back in and erased everything, wiped it all away as if three months of cohabitation and whatever tentative relationship they'd been building had never happened or developed. It bothers him more than it should, it hurts him more than he'd admit- if he'd ever do such a weak thing.

He releases her arms from where he'd steadied her as she ran straight into him, reeking of citrus and cinnamon, sage and musk- reeking of his brother. "Perhaps you should keep your eyes up instead of on your phone lest I throw it through the nearest wall, little wolf," he growls, matching her icy gaze.

"Go ahead," she challenges. "I'm surprised you haven't done that already."

It's what she wants, for him to lose it, to snap, to give in and prove whatever lies Elijah has whispered in her ear right. She may want it and he may be all too ready to unleash his frustrations concerning her spiteful attitude but that's one satisfaction the hybrid _refuses_ to give her. He has no intentions of doing so.

Klaus simply stands there, drawing himself to his full height. "Oh, how I would _love _nothing more. But then how would you reach the noble Elijah if you had need of, say..., _rescuing_ from the big bad, despicable wolf holding you against your will?" he asks, peering down at her in mock pity, contempt hiding behind the look in his eyes.

Her gaze turns from hatred to fear and she takes the smallest of steps backwards and he smirks, nasty and wicked.

Oh, yes, little wolf. He knows all about that foolish errand. He knows all about the request to save the werewolves, a request _he_, not Elijah, honored in the end, if not for nothing other than his own selfish reasons.

"What did you do?"

It'd be all too easy to walk away and leave her guessing, punish her for challenging his authority, for questioning his motives.

But he can't.

"I invited both he and Rebekah to join us here."

She shoves him in the chest. "You think it's funny to taunt your family in my face when you took mine away?!"

"I did no such thing and we both know that!"

She backs down again, shoulders slumping a bit. "Because Elijah saved them."

"Just because Elijah's sickening bout of White Knight syndrome acquiesced to your request doesn't mean they're protected." He lowers his voice a considerable amount before speaking again. "_I_ did that."

"What?"

"You heard me, little wolf." Perhaps if there wasn't so much animosity between them, he would divulge information he wishes to keep locked away simply because they're a lot alike, because she, of all people, would understand. Perhaps one day he will but as of now there's no need to explain himself, he doesn't owe her that much. She doesn't respond and he casts a glance at her, eyes roving up and down her body, lingering on the growing swell of her belly before meeting her gaze again, far less contemptuous than it had been mere seconds ago. "I cannot speak for Rebekah but I suspect Elijah will be joining us tomorrow." He moves around her to continue on his way- bottles of bourbon calling his name, singing him a sweet lullaby with the promise of a blissfully numb, drunken stupor.

"They keep me going. When I feel like it's me against the world and there's nothing left to fight for." The words stop him in his tracks, not bothering to look back at her. "Don't expect a thank you."

He wouldn't dare.

**A/N 2.0: wah. angst. i can't. a slow burn i can handle it but in order to do so I need Elijah to back the eff off. like the judgement on his face, the way he tries to appease klaus with white oak stakes (tvd 4x19) and stories about 'his true family' and apologies that don't even address the biggest issue (cough cough _'my child, my blood will grow up to call you father'_ cough). UGH. I loved the scene cause wah klelijahhh just hug it out please but then I'm all *anger*. and can we please talk about how it's been 4279847239 years since we got a soft, nice scene between Hayley and Klaus were there's nobody but them and no fingering pointing and accusations no matter how much of a right Hayley has to throw them to influence their interaction? **

**ggrrrr Elijah. homeslice, you wanted Klaus to care and, guess what, _he does_. so let him. **

***takes deep breath***

**okay, I'm done. I'll probably seethe through the hiatus wah. and I apologize to anyone who's also a haylijah shipper. I honestly don't think I'd have such an issue if Hayley wasn't, i dunno, pregnant with Klaus' kid. nope. I said I was done so I'm stopping.**

**thanks for reading, lovelies! and, if you have a second, please leave a review! I'd appreciate it:) /cuddles readers cause _hiatus_**


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